


Tick

by orphan_account



Series: The Marvellous Machines of Man [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Clockwork - Freeform, First of a series, M/M, Robotsssss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1664126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clockwork is a constant for this machine.</p>
<p>And so is love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <span></span><br/><em>Part of an Android!centric AU series that I'm writing. It'll be updated every one-two weeks with another short story focusing on Dave Strider, John Egbert, and an organisation that steals children.</em><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick

_Tick, tick, tick, tick_.

 

Repetitive. 

Constant. 

Safe.

 

You like clocks. You don't know why; you just do. You always have, ever since you were created. 

 

Perhaps it's the way your heart is; literally an internal body clock, it wasn't something that sped up or slowed down like a normal person's heart. That's what makes your kind so appealing. No unnecessary emotions,  no unnecessary thoughts, no unnecessary worries, unless you're made that way. 

 

You guess you're just broken in that case- if your kind aren't meant to feel, why do you? You were never fitted with a sentience chip. Apparently, something went wrong at the factory where you were born (you hasten to say made) and the slot that the chip was supposed to go was damaged. So you were downgraded, cheap and practically affordable enough for a kid to get with their Birthday or Christmas money. You suppose you should have been offended. But when you were taken away, to your new owner's house, you decided that you didn't mind even a little.

 

You like John. You like him an awful lot. When he found out that you had an independent personality he was thrilled, and his beautiful face contorted wonderfully in that lovely smile of his. He told you to just say you had a chip, it would be a better explanation for something that neither of you had any idea about.

 

He likes your personality. What you show of it, anyway. He says he likes your passion and your sense of humour and your blatant devotion for everything you do, even your 'stupid dorky cool kid persona' (his words, not yours). You always reply with "I like you", and he always laughs. You're never sure what's so funny about that, but you like his laugh a lot. It's like music to your ears.

 

Sometimes, you get frustrated with him. Simply because he is human, and you are not. Sometimes it makes you angry, that you can't feel and taste and touch like he can. You want to appreciate the wind on your face and the rain pattering down on your hair. Sure, the sensory valves in your skin lets you feel something, but it's never enough. John reassures you that it's fine, that you're still just like a human. But that's not enough. You don't want to be like a human; you want to  be human. 

 

Another thing that annoys you about John is that he doesn't know how much you love him. He thinks it's "bro jokes", complete irony (that's something else you've picked up) that you're using in the spirit of one upmanship. And that upsets you. Like, really upsets you. You've never loved anyone as much as you love him- you've never loved anyone, period. The closest you've come to loving someone else is your personal creator, who you still see often, and who knows of your predicament and is solely responsible for crafting you into the asshole you are. And even then, you will only think of him as a brother. This love feels a lot different. You want to protect John, and hold him close to you, maybe even kiss him, like the actors do in the movies (even that god-awful one with the sweaty guy that John insists on watching).

 

The only problem is how to tell him without him misconstruing it as a joke.

 

Maybe you'll tell him, one day. 

Not now, but. 

Eventually. 

 

Inside yourself, if you can concentrate through the silence, you can feel your heart beat rhythmically. And that comforts you. 

Like your heart, you wish for this to run like clockwork. One day you'll tell him, and one day he'll be yours.

  
  
_ Tick, tick, tick, tick. _


End file.
